


Spin the Bottle ft. the Inner Circle

by adventurerofthewrittenworld



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Banter, Mostly Fluff, Silly, inner circle sans amren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adventurerofthewrittenworld/pseuds/adventurerofthewrittenworld
Summary: The Inner Circle plays spin the bottle, and some jealousy and tension ensues.
Relationships: Cassian/Morrigan (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	Spin the Bottle ft. the Inner Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Context: Nessian have not gotten together yet, they've barely talked since the war. Mor has not come out to anyone else, (other than Feyre), and she and Az have not discussed the Feelings between them. This is pretty soon after the events of ACOFAS.

Feyre didn’t know how this had happened, or whose idea it had been, but it had been jokingly suggested so many times they had casually decided to do it. Except now that it was here, everyone in Amren’s small, cramped apartment was sorely regretting it. She could tell through the bond that Rhys was more tense than he let on, though he was smirking like a cat on the outside, and she knew he could feel her own apprehension.

Mor was smiling faintly, though she had grown paler as time went on. And Cassian and Nesta hadn’t spoken since that day on the battlefield. At least, not as far as Feyre knew. But there was enough unspoken tension between them that Feyre knew she was at least close to the truth.

She had no idea why Nesta had even agreed, and was even more shocked when Elain consented, so shocked that she almost advised her against it. But now they were all here, Cassian having dragged Azriel in. Amren had laughed herself hoarse when she’d heard about it, but had opted out, saying she was visiting Varian in the Summer Court. And then smirked a few other vulgar comments that made Elain blush.

“Do we even need a bottle?” Rhys asked, amused, from his position leaned back on a cushion in the corner of the room. Feyre had her head in his lap, and he was rubbing circles on the back of her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it.

Mor shrugged and made a flurrying motion with her hands, summoning a wisp of blue air which took the form of a bottle. She grinned, “I’ll go first.”

Rhys merely raised a brow and shrugged as she spun it with a twirl of her hands.

“It is random, right?” Cassian said, half-jokingly as he watched it spin.

And watched it point at him.

Mor let out a short bark of laughter, and didn’t wait a second longer before leaning across the space between them and kissing him. He didn’t miss a beat, his hands briefly cupping her face before they fell at his sides and they broke apart.

Feyre glanced at Nesta, whose expression seemed to have solidified the moment that bottle had stopped spinning. But she made no comment, and instead, just leaned back against the wall, no smile gracing her beautiful, icy face.

Azriel was against the wall as well, his shadows wreathing into him and obscuring him almost completely from view. But beneath the darkness, Feyre thought she saw a twinge of pain, of regret and guilt.

Cassian’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He cleared his throat, moving his fingers to spin the bottle once again.

It slowed to a stop, pointing at Nesta.

_This is definitely rigged,_ Feyre said, the amusement clear even through the bond.

Rhys snorted, _I don’t know whether to be amused or afraid._

Feyre grinned up at him and said, _I can’t speak for Nesta, but I’m certainly glad I came._

He laughed at that, and a few heads turned to stare at them, but Cassian was staring at Nesta, transfixed. She was staring at him, no expression on her face.

And slowly, so slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes burning into her own blazing ones, and brushed his lips against hers.

And Nesta kissed him back, breaking it only with a little breathless sound. Their lips were separated by only a sliver of space, and Nesta glanced up at Cassian. He met her eyes and leaned in again, his eyes fluttering closed, but Nesta leaned away from him, as far back into the wall as she could go.

“It’s my turn,” was all she said. Feyre could have sworn she was mad as she said it.

Cassian looked at her and blinked. Then he mumbled something and scooted away from her, back to his spot on the floor.

Nesta grasped the magic controlling the bottle and spun it, without glancing back at Cassian. The room itself seemed to hold its breath as it spun. And when it slowed to a stop, it landed on Azriel who was now almost completely covered by the shadows. A muscle in his jaw flickered, as if he was debating whether to say something or not.

The room was silent. And it was Nesta who said coolly, “You’re going to have to come out of the shadows.”

Slowly, his shadows left him, and something in Nesta’s eyes was burning as she stared at him. But it was Azriel who leaned forward smoothly, his scarred hands brushing the sides of Nesta’s face as he kissed her deeply. *

Nesta didn’t break away for another few seconds, her fingers twining in his hair and travelling down to his neck. When she did, her lips were flushed and she was breathing heavily. Azriel was quiet, some color having flooded his pale cheeks, and he glanced at Cassian’s face as he leaned back into the wall.

“My turn,” he muttered. His voice was hoarse as he said it.

_It’ll land on Elain, won’t it?_ Feyre said down the bond, laughing.

_Maybe._ His voice was tight. As if holding back laughter.

Feyre sat up suddenly in his lap, turning her head to face him. _Did_ you _rig it?_

His answering smile was anything but reassuring.

She couldn’t answer though, as right at that moment, the bottle landed on Elain. For a moment, she just stared at it. She blinked at it, as if somehow looking at it for long enough would cause it to turn away from him. Slowly, she lifted her wide eyes up to him.

“I—” she squeaked, and Azriel was smiling faintly at her expression. And then, slowly, he moved closer to Elain, his hands sliding across the floor as he glided across the floor—

And Elain leaned in and pressed her lips to his, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so. She pulled away almost instantly, and then scanned his face for a reaction. He looked more flustered than ever as she moved away, almost too quickly, and took the bottle from him.

Feyre glanced at Rhys once, a smile tugging at her lips, already knowing who it would land on. He just grinned and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _What?_

The bottle spun and spun and landed on Rhys. Rhys didn’t wait for Elain to move or grow flustered, just leaned in to brush a chaste kiss on her cheek, Feyre still straddling his lap.

“Well, I guess there’s only one person left,” he said, grinning at Feyre.

_You’re despicable,_ Feyre laughed through the bond.

He answered her by wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her. And as they stood up, still without breaking their kiss, Mor groaned and muttered something before leaving. The rest of the inner circle followed her soon after, and a pink faced Elain muttered something about not ever doing this again to which many murmurs of assent could be heard.


End file.
